Your father has always said that your existence is how he knows he can be wrecked
Not even in his most vivid dreams could he have dreamt how mesmerizing you would be
The space in his heart grew three times its size the day you were born
You, a gathering of limbs filling up the world
How your fingers scratched his imagination wide open
How your shoulder blades flung his defences away
How your hips jut out like newly discovered land
He has always thought you a wonder
Even when your face was still assembling itself
When teeth were rearranging into uniformity
Even when your body felt like a stammered apology, he thought you a poem
Some daughters are made of cinnamon and shielded childhoods
But you are made entirely of grit, unshakeable love and rocklike-buttery hugs
In adversity you look like a stained-glass window with a transfixed audience
Because your father gently rebuked each insecurity until they morphed into gold
You move in the shape of a balled fist
In place of no you leak fertile soil
When you come on too strong and they tell you no man will want a woman like you
You laugh because if they looked through you they would see your father.
It was daddy's voice that looped in your head as you learnt to kiss with a shy tongue
It was daddy's ears you crooned into
As a man's kisses sat like fleshy bruises on your breasts
And when boys break your heart
They don't know they are breaking your father's knuckles
Knuckles like concrete walls that take a beating but never fall to the ground
Still, sometimes your tears brewed a storm in his belly
But your wallowing always had its expiry date clearly printed out
Because your father did not kiss your ankles for you to beg at the feet of men
Who don't hold you like you're something precious
Once, when you couldn't stop crying because a man gobbled you up like a starving child
And then spat you out like a curse
Your father told you to not waste your tears
For not a single man was making it to heaven
And when you tell him "but you're a man", without missing a step he tells you
I am not a man, I am your father, I am your covering
I am the spine that promises to shape you
I am a beggar in God's ear trading my needs for your comfort
I am a hymn singing you back, back to a familiar path
No I'm not a man
I am not a man, I am your father
Daddy's Girl Video (MV)
Poetra Asantewa - Daddy's Girl Lyrics
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English
Your father has always said that your existence is how he knows he can be wrecked
Not even in his most vivid dreams could he have dreamt how mesmerizing you would be
The space in his heart grew three times its size the day you were born
You, a gathering of limbs filling up the world
How your fingers scratched his imagination wide open
How your shoulder blades flung his defences away
How your hips jut out like newly discovered land
He has always thought you a wonder
Even when your face was still assembling itself
When teeth were rearranging into uniformity
Even when your body felt like a stammered apology, he thought you a poem
Some daughters are made of cinnamon and shielded childhoods
But you are made entirely of grit, unshakeable love and rocklike-buttery hugs
In adversity you look like a stained-glass window with a transfixed audience
Because your father gently rebuked each insecurity until they morphed into gold
You move in the shape of a balled fist
In place of no you leak fertile soil
When you come on too strong and they tell you no man will want a woman like you
You laugh because if they looked through you they would see your father.
It was daddy's voice that looped in your head as you learnt to kiss with a shy tongue
It was daddy's ears you crooned into
As a man's kisses sat like fleshy bruises on your breasts
And when boys break your heart
They don't know they are breaking your father's knuckles
Knuckles like concrete walls that take a beating but never fall to the ground
Still, sometimes your tears brewed a storm in his belly
But your wallowing always had its expiry date clearly printed out
Because your father did not kiss your ankles for you to beg at the feet of men
Who don't hold you like you're something precious
Once, when you couldn't stop crying because a man gobbled you up like a starving child
And then spat you out like a curse
Your father told you to not waste your tears
For not a single man was making it to heaven
And when you tell him "but you're a man", without missing a step he tells you
I am not a man, I am your father, I am your covering
I am the spine that promises to shape you
I am a beggar in God's ear trading my needs for your comfort
I am a hymn singing you back, back to a familiar path
No I'm not a man
I am not a man, I am your father
Not even in his most vivid dreams could he have dreamt how mesmerizing you would be
The space in his heart grew three times its size the day you were born
You, a gathering of limbs filling up the world
How your fingers scratched his imagination wide open
How your shoulder blades flung his defences away
How your hips jut out like newly discovered land
He has always thought you a wonder
Even when your face was still assembling itself
When teeth were rearranging into uniformity
Even when your body felt like a stammered apology, he thought you a poem
Some daughters are made of cinnamon and shielded childhoods
But you are made entirely of grit, unshakeable love and rocklike-buttery hugs
In adversity you look like a stained-glass window with a transfixed audience
Because your father gently rebuked each insecurity until they morphed into gold
You move in the shape of a balled fist
In place of no you leak fertile soil
When you come on too strong and they tell you no man will want a woman like you
You laugh because if they looked through you they would see your father.
It was daddy's voice that looped in your head as you learnt to kiss with a shy tongue
It was daddy's ears you crooned into
As a man's kisses sat like fleshy bruises on your breasts
And when boys break your heart
They don't know they are breaking your father's knuckles
Knuckles like concrete walls that take a beating but never fall to the ground
Still, sometimes your tears brewed a storm in his belly
But your wallowing always had its expiry date clearly printed out
Because your father did not kiss your ankles for you to beg at the feet of men
Who don't hold you like you're something precious
Once, when you couldn't stop crying because a man gobbled you up like a starving child
And then spat you out like a curse
Your father told you to not waste your tears
For not a single man was making it to heaven
And when you tell him "but you're a man", without missing a step he tells you
I am not a man, I am your father, I am your covering
I am the spine that promises to shape you
I am a beggar in God's ear trading my needs for your comfort
I am a hymn singing you back, back to a familiar path
No I'm not a man
I am not a man, I am your father
Writer: Ama Diaka
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid